


backwater tunnels

by candiedrhododendrons



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A New Dawn, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedrhododendrons/pseuds/candiedrhododendrons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla had crossed paths before A New Dawn…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“My padawan, why is it that you fear making a decision? You know the coordinates.”

“I only want to be sure, Master.” It wasn’t making a decision that he feared, but making the wrong one. Caleb didn’t want to risk finding himself and his squadron hurtling into the fiery face of a star because of a stupid miscalculation. Out of habit, he always checked in with his Master before sending his starfighter into hyperspace.

“You ought to be sure of _yourself_ ,” Depa gently reprimanded. Her voice came in, laced with static, through the com. “This time, you tell me the navigation plan. I will follow your lead.”

Caleb stifled a groan. “Master, I really don’t think it’s a good time for—”

“Caleb, the innocents of Ryloth need our assistance, and we can’t keep them waiting. Make the decision. Now.”

Her padawan rolled his eyes, masking his deep seated dread with irritation.  _Well Dume, this is it. This is that recurring nightmare come true. The day you’re karking everything up will finally have fatal consequences._

“Alright. Alright.” The boy gruffly examined his navicomp. He, his master and their trailing armada had just flown out of a run in with some Confederacy starships. It was easy enough to out blast the enemy offenses, even without help from the Grand Army. But damage had been done to all of their astrogation navigators somehow. Caleb silently wondered if they would end up needing the GAR to accompany them on this operation after all, but they were told the Separatist blockade surrounding Ryloth would be easy enough to break through without them.

In it’s current condition, the computer on Caleb’s ship still did most of what it was built to do, which made things easy enough. He just had to tell it where he was going. _Alright. This is fine. I know the planet is somewhere in the Outer Rim, somewhere in the Spice Triangle. That’s what Ryloth is known for right? Exporting spices?_  He tapped the computer screen with slightly shaking fingers. _Yeah it is. Okay, good._  He bit his lip and continued to briefly inspect the diagram of the three trade routes, making sure he knew for certain which was the one to take. He’d done all of this before. But it didn’t hurt to double check.

“We’re no longer in the Coruscant System, padawan,” Depa’s voice calmly informed him, reminding him that there was no time to waste.

“I know, Master.” A few more searches on the comp and he was just confident enough to report his calculations. “Setting coordinates to take the, um, Corellian Run to planet Ryloth.” He waited to hear her approval. But Master Billaba made no reply. “That hyperway will take us where we’re going, right Master?”

“Do you think it will?”

Caleb took a deep breath. “Yes?”

“Then I trust your judgement. Setting the coordinates now. Men, we’re travelling the Corellian Run. Await my signal to go into hyperspace.”

Caleb sucked down another breath as he listened to several _Yes, General_ ’s coming in through his communicator. He wished Depa didn’t push him like this, and at the most critical times, even though he understood that this was part of his training. _If this is what will make you a Knight, you’re going to have to get used to it, Dume._ Ever since he’d been taken on as a padawan, the reality of what this meant became less and less reflective of his childhood dreams. It was true that a day spent blasting through Confederate blockades and blowing holes through Separatists droids was always a good time. But Caleb knew now that there was so much more to carrying the name, the title—including that unnervingly heavy load of being responsible for millions of lives all at once.

He glanced down at his lightsaber, the metal glistening as it reflected starlight. It still had yet to see a real battle, and Caleb only hoped it wouldn’t drop out of his fingers when he got the chance to change that, like it had the last time he sparred with Depa at the Temple. He shook his head, remembering how other initiates of his Gathering had relentlessly teased him for building it in two pieces, no matter how many times he explained that it wasn’t his fault. The Force directed him to do it just like it had them with their sabers. Besides, he argued, its ability to come apart made perfect sense. What if someone were to try and steal it? What if he had to hide it away somewhere? _Paranoid_ , they called him. _Look at mister Dumesday over here._  He’d just dropped the conversation after that. _Well, they weren’t wrong_ , he thought now, tapping the control panel somewhat nervously and awaiting Depa’s signal to go into hyperdrive.

About half a rotation ago, when the call had been made for Jedi to travel to the Outer Rim and assist those being seized by the Confederacy, he did not expect Depa to ask him to come along. His knees had actually buckled. He had even feebly protested, arguing that it was strange to have so many Jedi being called out from the Core at once, and so far away. He dreamed of being part of the action...just not this much and so soon. But Depa had always been able to pick up on his anxiety through the Force. _First rule of war, my padawan. Listen and obey your superiors._

He recalled Depa’s assuring touch to his shoulder as he currently pulled his starfighter into hyperdrive at his Master’s command. While the brightly colored nebulae and infinite fiery suns surrounding him turned into indiscernible streaks of light, he sat back in his seat and ran his fingers along the hilt of his lightsaber. The silence of hyperspace was always somewhat calming. And he decided to focus on that instead of the ache in his chest, reminding him that his coordinates still could have been totally wrong.

Depa’s other words to him earlier that day, when they were boarding their starships in the hangar, came to his mind as well. Pulling him aside, she’d gestured to his lightsaber and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, so he knew what she was about to tell him was important.

_This weapon is your life. And a Jedi uses it to protect others._

 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Relax,_ Hera.” Numa pat her friend’s head as they passed out clean linens to fellow villagers. This time around, the tunnels were built closer to the Nightlands side of the terminator. Clean blankets and warm clothes were highly appreciated among the Twi’leks hiding there.

“I _can’t_ relax because you guys always shut me out when something important is going on!” The smaller girl trailed behind her friend, an oversized pilot’s cap bouncing with her lekku as she walked quickly to keep up. She put down her basket of linens and lifted the front of the hat as it fell over her eyes. “How come I can help with everything except for when it really matters? No one ever tells me what’s going on.”

Numa glanced sympathetically at her young friend. She stopped before an empty tent and knelt down to leave a pile of freshly washed blankets and clothes at its entrance. “Why don’t you ask the General?”

Hera sighed noisily. “ _Numa_.” She hated it when Numa did this to her. Numa was her only access into the adults’ whisperings around the village. Only Numa seemed to think Hera could handle bad news. Hera considered her a sister, even though they were cousins. And if Numa wouldn’t spill it, Hera would have to find the answers herself. And her _real_ sister, Asteria, would have to scold her for sneaking out of the tunnels to investigate again. Both Hera and Asteria knew their father, the General, wouldn’t tell them if something were amiss aboveground. He wouldn’t want them to worry. And while Asteria appreciated their father’s protection, it only frustrated Hera. Her father didn’t understand that the young girls were living in this hellish reality just like everyone else. They’d lost so much already. So many places they’d once called home, so many people they'd once called friends...and some even dearer than that. Asteria even lost her hearing after one explosion that hit too close. What more harm could the truth cause them? But to their father, their losses only made his daughters all the more fragile. He didn’t understand. Hera knew she could aid the resistance if she was given the chance. And she wanted to, _had_ to, have that chance. “Please. I want to help.”

“You can help by doing the job assigned to you,” Numa told her, handing her a stack of folded clothes from her basket. “Help me pass these around like you were told.”

The ten year old girl frowned as she took the pile with both hands, the front of her hat falling over her eyes again. “This is injustice,” she muttered.

Numa smiled halfheartedly. “Just have some faith, Hera.” She lifted the rycrit leather brim of Hera’s hat out of the girl's face for her. “Otherwise you’re going to find yourself pretty hopeless in this life.”

“Oh, come on, Numa,” Hera pleaded, staring up at her friend with large, green eyes. The smaller girl pouted her lip, sniffed a little, and batted her thick Human-like eyelashes.

Numa exhaled through her nose and gave in, with a short roll of her eyes. _This child already knows how to use her Twi’lek charm to get what she wants, I can’t believe it._ She knelt down to Hera’s level and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look, you little troublemaker. The baby eyes don’t work on me. So knock it off.”

Hera dropped the act, but now her face held a real frown.

“But I’m going to tell you all that I know. Just so you don’t go out exploring again and get yourself killed. Alright?”

Hera’s face lit up. “The Republic Army is coming back, isn’t it?” she asked excitedly, memories resurfacing in her mind of the lekku-less men in shiny white and red suits.

“I don’t know.” Numa sighed and looked around to see if anyone close by was listening. Some children amputees sat occupied with stuffed dolls nearby. Some adults were tending to their infants in their tents a few meters away. Some other young villagers were walking around spreading the day’s rations and clean garments. At the far end of the underground cavern, General Syndulla was sitting with a group of Resistance fighters at his tent, preparing for the upcoming events. And everyone else was caught up in anxious chatter.

No one was paying them any attention, but Numa spoke quietly just in case. “Okay. Remember three years ago, when the Confederacy first started building droid murfs on Ryloth?”

Hera hesitated briefly but then shook her head.

“Well, they did,” Numa explained. “They came here to put up these factories that built droids out of recycled parts. That, and to steal our planet’s resources.”

Hera nodded even though she barely understood any of it. All of her memories were only shadows of these events. She’d never known the bigger picture. Three years ago. In her mind, that was when everything that once felt normal changed. When her primary dance school teacher had actually cried in the middle of class, telling her girls all the schools in the village had to close. When her family had to leave their house and Hera had to leave half of her model freighters, dolls and dresses behind. When everything stopped making sense, but nobody would tell her what was happening anymore.

Three years ago. That was about a third of her life ago. All Hera could remember was sitting on the dirt floor of a tent with Asteria and her mother, wrapped together in scratchy blankets whenever they migrated to the Nightlands, and munching on the stale food that came from the Republic ships when they nested in the Bright Lands. All Hera could remember was feeling hungry and scared and tired every single day after moving camp again, and again, and _again_. All Hera could remember was a platoon of men in red and white suits (that mystified her, but scared Asteria because they didn’t have any lekku) and an orange Jedi with horns and a laser sword, assuring them that they would all be kept safe. All Hera could remember was that she didn’t _feel_ safe. Not ever. Not until her father came back to their tent some nights and sung his family to sleep, patting the songs into Asteria’s back because the girl no longer had the ability to hear.

“Yeah. But didn’t the Army kick them out? After the droids attacked your village? I-I mean after that, when the Republic freed Brek’s village? They kicked the Seps out of Lessu, and they never came back.” Hera tried to mask her nerves. She figured as much from eavesdropping on adult conversations while passing out rations to villagers over the years.

“Well...they never really left, Hera,” Numa said carefully, and Hera tried to appear as calm as possible. She didn’t want her friend to regret telling her anything. But she was starting to feel very afraid, despite herself.

“Oh,” she said softly. They’d lived underground for so long now, she’d guessed something was going on. But whenever she escaped the tunnels, she’d never crossed paths with a single droid. She had allowed herself to hope in the possibility that everything was alright. “So then what’s the big thing that’s happening tomorrow?”

Numa sighed. She took both of Hera’s shoulders in her hands and Hera tried not to find that alarming. “Well it’s already happening. It’s been happening. The Republic has driven the Separatists out of the Galactic Core, so now the Seps are setting up bases all over the Outer Rim.” When Hera responded with only a blink, Numa added, “Which means they’re taking over planets like ours.”

“Oh,” Hera said, even softer than before.

“They have a bunch of bases on Ryloth and they’ve been…” she hesitated. “Well, a lot of villages have been bombed out recently. No one seems to care enough about planets out here to cover the story on the HoloNet, so it’s hard to tell just which villages are gone. But it's pretty scary.”

Hera’s heartbeat quickened at that news. She tried hard to stifle the anxiety suddenly running through her veins and pounding into her chest. She hadn’t known the details before. Still, somehow she felt like she’d always been aware that things were this bad.

“So, the Republic Navy, and some Jedi or whatever, are on their way to destroy the bases. But the Separatists are using captured villagers as living shields for their headquarters, you know how it goes. And we have to help those people escape.” Numa exhaled and rubbed her friend’s shoulders as she stood up straight again. “And that’s all I know.”

“Oh.” Hera hadn’t realized how tightly her hands had been gripping onto the pile of blankets until Numa was finished and let her go. Hera loosened her grip, the joints in her fingers aching a little as they relaxed. She sucked in a deep breath and both girls were silent for a moment.

Then Numa cocked her head and lightly punched Hera in the shoulder. “So. You’ll stay put until the Resistance gets back from the op, right? I won’t find you sneaking out of the tunnels and trying to get yourself killed today. Will I?”

“No, no, I understand.”

Numa let out a relieved sigh and smiled. “Good.” She picked up her basket of linens again. “Now come on, Captain Hera. No one will have a comfortable sleep if we don’t get these around.”

Hera nodded and followed silently behind her cousin. As she walked, her boots treading softly against the dirt floor, dreaded memories flooded her thoughts despite her attempts to shut them out. Memories of hiding her face in her mother’s skirts. Of Asteria’s never ending sobbing. Of the solemn expressions on everyone's faces as the village prayed aloud for liberation or quick, painless death. She didn’t know at the time they were being used as _living shields_. No one ever told her anything. But it was dawning on her now that that must have been exactly what was going on those years ago. She remembered the chilling pinch from the metal cuffs around her wrists, constricting her ability to hug her sister close as they waited to be saved. She remembered the hot tears running down her face once they’d spotted their father among the crowd of Twi’leks coming to their rescue. She remembered the piercing sound of his blaster ripping holes into the droid invaders, the shape of the short bladed knife he used to sever their cuffs and set them free. She remembered her father pulling the two of them close to him, his armor smooth against her cheek, smelling like ash and sweat. She remembered lowering her mother’s ice cold body into a pit with the corpses of the others that died that day. She remembered the silent journey home and the sleepless night that followed.

And presently, as she was remembering, Numa’s words kept repeating in her brain like an old inspirational ballad—waking up those dark memories and igniting that drive in her that refused to die with everything else.

_And we have to help those people escape. And we have to help those people escape. And we have to help those people escape..._


	3. Chapter 3

“We lost half of our men, and the last of the the Star Destroyers made only enough way for my padawan and I to slip through the blockade. We got through in our starfighters, but the rest of our fleet had to retreat. I hope your Resistance has enough men, as we’re all the reinforcement you’re receiving for now.”

Caleb couldn’t believe it. Master Billaba spoke as if she was simply relating the stock reports from the HoloNet, not giving an account on the unexpectedly tremendous loss they’d just experienced. The scene had been horrific, the blockade way more fortified than they’d been told. It was his first real operation, and Caleb had already seen what he figured was the worst of it. Who commanded them to go into this without the Army anyway? What kind of plan was it to send the Jedi _alone_ to take on the enemies on the surface while the Navy attacked from the skies? Now half of the Navy had been obliterated, and they were to die out here on this backwater planet. There was no other way out. He could see no other option. He blinked back the threat of tears burning in his eyes, and swallowed his frustration. He couldn’t believe it. How could his Master even _speak_ let alone with such control?

The orange skinned Twi’lek rubbed at his chin solemnly and nodded. “Your assistance is appreciated nonetheless. But my men only amount to the hundreds. I will have to recruit more of the women in my village and some younger ones if we are to prevent this from being a suicide mission. When do you suspect your Army is to arrive?”

“I’ve already been assured that a squadron of the Grand Army of the Republic is to be sent in less than a rotation’s time, led by my old Master, General Windu.”

“Ah yes. I’ve fought alongside the Jedi before.”

“But it will require a large blockade assault, and it’s difficult to calculate how long it will take for them to break through.”

The Twi’lek sighed. "I wish you had arrived with the Army in the first place." He thought about this for a moment and then he gestured for them to follow. “For now, we wait. Wait, and come up with new plans.”

Caleb was fuming. _Appreciated nonetheless?_ “With all due respect, General, you could give my Master an actual thank you. We lost hundreds of people just trying to land on this rock and help you!”

Cham Syndulla did not slow in his step as he looked over his shoulder and down at the Human boy. And the Twi’lek General’s expression gave away no sign of anger or apology towards Caleb. “Young one. Do not speak to me about loss.”

Caleb’s frown deepened and he balled his fists. So much death he had witnessed only hours ago...he couldn’t believe the General was implying that he ought to let it go. Depa rested a hand on her padawan’s shoulder as they walked, and he could hear her stern reminders through the Force. _Now is neither the time nor the place, my padawan. A soldier is not guided by his feelings._ He couldn’t tell if she meant his pain or his anger. But either way, Caleb obeyed and held his tongue, swallowing his grief until he felt it sink to the back of his mind.

 _Paranoid Dumesday. He’s either quivering in anger or quivering in fear, there is no inbetween._ He’d overheard a fellow padawan say that once at the Temple after he’d gotten into a fist fight with another initiate.

 _Well, she wasn’t wrong_ , he thought now, shamefully letting his fingers relax.


	4. Chapter 4

“Wait,” the lavender skinned girl shook her head subtly, in disbelief. “They’re asking _us_ to go up there? I thought you _Jedi_ came to aid the Resistance! Where’s your Clone Army? Where’s the protection you people promised us?”

Caleb sighed and tried to balance the tone in his voice. He knew tone itself could change the the very meaning of a word in Twi’leki, and he was sure he was already butchering up the foreign grammar. “They aren’t here. And they aren’t going to reach your planet for a while. But, we need to act now anyway, before they can prepare for our attack, while we still have a chance. And the Resistance is going to need more recruits if we’re going to rescue even a fraction of those hostages.”

“But we’re just kids,” said a blue skinned Twi’lek from behind. Caleb turned to face him and he noticed after a moment that the boy was missing a leg, replaced by a wooden prosthetic. He couldn’t have been much older than Caleb himself, maybe fourteen or fifteen years of age, and the Human boy winced. “How the hell are we supposed to go up against those killing machines?” the blue Twi’lek questioned skeptically, crossing his arms.

“Trust me, I’m still new at this too,” Caleb admitted. “But, look, we’re basically flanking the operation. And if we do this right, none of you may even have to blast a single droid.” At that, the group of young Twi’leks surrounding Caleb began anxiously whispering even more among themselves. And Caleb realized that maybe admitting that he was _new at this_ wasn’t the smartest thing to do at such a critical time. _You just lost them, Dume. Good job._ Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to think, as the whispering turned to chatter and the chatter erupted into nervous yelling and shoving around him.

Only minutes ago, when Caleb and Depa were led to the underground village by General Syndulla, they’d discussed a plan among the Resistance. Depa, Cham, and the Resistance were to take out the Confederate droids and hijack their cannons. It was decided that Caleb was to lead all of the villagers over the age of fourteen that weren’t already part of the Resistance to free the hostages. Once the stage was cleared for freeing civilians, Master Billaba would give the signal for Caleb and his new recruits to do so.

“But, Commander, why can’t the Resistance take care of getting the hostages out?” a skittish dark-green woman asked Caleb after he’d related the plan to his assigned group.

“Because they’ll have to be fighting off any Separatist reinforcements while we’re leading the rescued people to the tunnels.”

Removing his hand from his face now, he tried raising his voice to an octave above the rising chatter. “Now can we…! Guys! Listen! We have to…!” The bustle carried on, only rising in volume. “People!”

Suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, a young teal-skinned and brown-eyed girl emerged from the crowd and stood at the center of the encircled group. She gave out a sharp whistle, loud enough to make several villagers cover their ears, and they all turned their attention to her.

“LISTEN UP!” she exclaimed, and Caleb blinked at her, his hands instinctively reaching up to cover his own ears. “Hey!” The girl put her hands on her hips. “What is _wrong_ with you all? This isn’t anything new! I am shocked right now. I really am. What would our forefathers say? Seeing us quaking in fear at the coming of a battle?” Some of group were silenced by her words. Some of the Twi’leks briefly looked down at their feet in shame. The girl turned to face the blue-skinned boy that had spoken up before. “Brek. You’ve seen the battlefield, head on. _Twice_ before. Remember Lessu? You were just a kid _then_. Weren’t you? And, look, you survived it!” Brek muttered something under his breath as the girl turned towards the rest of the group, a hand on his shoulder. “And I know plenty of you were part of the mobs that finished off the invading droids in Nabat. I remember seeing some of your faces that victorious day. And I _know_ that some of you were the brave ones who helped their neighbors flee from Resdin under fire. And the rest of you have probably faced perils I can’t even imagine! Fact is, all of us have seen war, in some way, in some form. Am I right?” A few nodded and muttered affirmative responses. “All of us know what needs to be done in a situation like this. Those droids have our own people, our own _brothers and sisters_ , chained up and taken hostage just so they don't lose their stupid factories and headquarters. Those heartless murderers would rather have our people die than lose any money! And those hostages? Their only hope is us right now. That’s it. So _shut up_! All of you. Listen to the Commander! And let’s bring some karking freedom back to Ryloth!” The crowd exploded with loud agreement as the girl pumped her small fist into the air.

Caleb stood speechless, even a moment after the girl gestured for him to retake center stage. Eventually, he realized he should step forward and he cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you,” he told her. “Right. So, yes. Everyone, like she said...Um, I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Numa.” The teal-skinned girl told him. She looked about Caleb's age too, maybe even a little younger. “And that’s Iya, Mil and Zella. Everyone else, you’ll get to know.” She patted her blue friend on the back. “And this is Brek. He’s braver than he pretends to be.”

Brek rolled his eyes before saying, “We’re ready for our orders, Commander.”

Suddenly, a young voice piped up from beyond the group. "Aren't you forgetting someone, Numa?"

Caleb turned to see yet another Twi'lek face pushing her way through the older ones. She was noticeably younger than the rest of the group, very much so, and wore a freighter pilot's helmet that looked about three sizes too big for her head. It was practically falling over her eyes. The girl shoved her way into the center of the group and some villagers shook their heads amusedly in response. Lifting the brim of her hat, she crossed her arms and gave Numa an insulted look.

"Oh." Numa smiled. "And this is my cousin, Hera. She's one of General Syndulla's daughters." She started to put her other hand on Hera’s shoulder, but the younger girl shoved her hand away. “A true rebel,” Numa added. “A tactical warrior and one of my best friends."

Caleb nodded in Hera's direction and the small light-green girl returned the gesture. She couldn’t have been any more than a meter and a half in height. She dressed in black boots, ash-brown pants and a sand colored tunic. Everything she wore looked like it belonged to someone much larger than her, actually. But then again, none of the villagers seemed to be wearing very fitting attire. Some even lacked shoes.

"You're pretty young for a revolutionary," Caleb commented with a smirk. He'd meant it as a compliment, but the girl did not seem flattered by his observation.

"And you're pretty inexperienced for a Jedi." She casually put her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants.

Caleb glanced at Numa, who made no reaction, and then back at the tiny girl before him. "...Excuse me?"

"Any real Commander would know not to admit it’s their first op when trying to rally up their troops. Breaks their confidence. Where are you from, anyway?"

"I'm—Coruscant," he responded. Why was this twerp hounding him? “And, listen, this isn’t my _first op_.”

"Hmph. I bet.” Hera took a step toward the padawan that came to a head above her in height. “Comfortable Coruscant. That's where Senator Taa lives." She sucked her teeth. "Well you're far away from luxury out here, Jedi." Caleb raised his eyebrows and she raised her chin as if trying to extend her stature. "Try not to fall off your blurrg when we go after the droids,” she added.

“We?” Numa rolled her eyes and put a hand on her young friend's shoulder. “No no no, Captain. You’re not going after any droids today. Now, hasn't Uncle Nilim assigned you a job to do right now? Something about passing around arms and blurrg saddles?"

"Y-yes, but—"

"You know that job is very important to this mission, Hera," Numa said kindly. She gave her friend's shoulder a gentle shove and Hera reluctantly turned aside in a huff. Hera nodded a curt goodbye towards Caleb and pushed her way through the group again, disappearing into the surrounding tunnels.

Caleb shook his head. "What was that?"

Numa smiled apologetically. She knew her cousin was just spewing out things the General often said at the young Jedi. "Sorry. Hera's a bit of cannon blast sometimes. She spends a lot of time with the General and war is still mostly a game of heroics to her."

Caleb smirked knowingly, glad to feel like the older, more experienced person in a conversation for the first time in a long time. "I remember being like that when I was her age."

Brek scoffed. "Like Syndulla?" he shook his head. "Doubt it. She may be young in years. But that girl has a unique passion for justice. Hera is insane."

Numa nodded. "Just like the General." The entire group laughed good-naturedly and Caleb was briefly reminded that he was the foreigner in this place.

“Right,” he said. “Well, everyone knows their orders now. Let’s saddle up!”

Numa nodded in the general direction of the crowd. “You heard him people! Let's harvest all the strength we can and prep for this thing.” She made a gesture at dispersing. “Come on!" And the group went off to get ready, leaving Caleb, Numa and Brek behind.

"We really appreciate the Republic assistance,” Brek told him, and Caleb pointedly tried not to glance at the boy's prosthetic leg while he spoke. “We've lost a lot during this war and...well, most of us had given up all hope before today."

Caleb nodded as he was struck by the memory of one of his Master’s teachings that morning.

_And a Jedi uses it to protect others._

He felt for the hilt of his saber beneath his robes. “One of the goals of a Jedi is to inspire hope across the galaxy,” he quoted a passage he’d read in a Holonovel. “And that’s what we’re here to do.”

Numa smiled appreciatively. “Let’s just hope you make a difference today, Jedi.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Well this was a dumb plan,” Hera muttered under her breath after another branch slit a scratch across her face. She ignored the sting it left in her cheek and peered again through the collection of leaves hiding her from view. “ _Woah…_ ” The small girl was amazed at the slaughter her people were imposing upon the enemy troops. Droid heads were flying left and right, blaster shots cutting through metallic torsos and leaving the bots limbless and lifeless, piles of nuts and bolts scattered across the rocky ground. A procession of blurrgs and their Twi’lek riders plowed through the city gates, ripping apart any droids in their path. She could see her father at the frontlines, followed by the Chalactan general who was riding her reptilian (handlessly somehow) and deflecting enemy fire with her laser sword. It was hard to look away. But Hera had to keep moving before she was caught.

She carefully crept away from the battlefield, completely concealed in an uprooted shrub, being sure to stick close to where the wilderness met civilization, so as not to lose her way.

All she had to do was get to her hideout in one piece. All she had to do was grab those droid poppers and bring them back in one piece. All she had to do was help those hostages escape in one piece.

 

* * *

 

“A heat storm? Does that affect our plan?”

“Hell, yeah,” Brek told the Human boy, somewhat anxiously. “Stars, this _is_ your first off-world operation, isn’t it?” Caleb glanced at the Twi’lek, but then cast his eyes down at the saddle of his blurrg and said nothing. Brek rolled his eyes in angry disbelief. “Unbelievable. They gave us a newbie Jedi to carry us into battle. I really feel protected by the Republic. I really kriffin’ do.”

“Brek, now is neither the place or time,” the lavender skinned Twi’lek with two lekku scolded him from the back of her own reptilian. Caleb recalled her named was Iya. “Numa, how far away is it?”

Numa was still looking down the other side of the mountain path through a pair of old macrobinoculars. She swallowed hard. The cyclone of blazing wind was only getting closer, hurtling in their direction. “Hard to tell. But I’d say about twenty klicks away, give or take.” She put down her macrobinoculars and faced the group. “We don’t have much time.” The Twi’leks were silenced for a moment, no one sure what to do. Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think.

“We have to warn the others,” a woman’s voice said from among the Twi’leks.

“A heat storm would wipe us all out in minutes,” Brek reminded her. “Cook the lot of us before we even get a chance to retreat.”

Soon, nervous chatter began, and Numa blew a sharp whistle through her fingers before it could grow. All the Twi’lek eyes landed on the young Human Commander in charge, and Caleb tried to mentally drown out their apprehension flowing through the Force and clogging his brain.

_My padawan, why is it that you fear making a decision? You ought to be sure of yourself._

Caleb cleared his throat. Speaking in forcibly steady notes, he said firmly, “We’ve got to try and warn them. And we have to get those hostages out.” He pushed back his sleeve and spoke into his comlink after hitting a few buttons on it. “Master?”

After a few seconds, Depa’s voice came through in waves of static. _“Padawan...Wha...it?”_

“New part and parcel, Master. A heat storm is about to hit. We have to play this out a little differently than we planned.”

_“He...orm?”_

“We’re coming in now. Forget about the signal. Can you hear me? We’re coming in now.” No response. “Blast it, the connection’s dead.”

“We’ll die!” Brek exclaimed, looking around at the others in disbelief. Their expressions reflected his terror.

Caleb ignored the incredulous expression on everyone’s faces and mentally blacked out the fear he felt travelling from their energy sources, through the Force and into his own psyche. He tossed the blue Twi’lek a crooked smile with faux confidence and told him, “Not if we’re quick!”

Refusing to pay attention to the dread rising in his own gut, he tightened his grip on the leather reins and leaned forward on his blurrg saddle. “Change of plans, everyone!” he called over his shoulder and all behind him grew quiet. “We’re no longer waiting for a signal. A heat storm is coming and it's coming fast. We’re going to need to get those hostages freed, and I mean right _now_! So, I want anyone who's too scared to head back to the tunnels. And as for the rest of you,” he thrashed the reins and sent his blurrg racing down the path before anyone had time to make up their minds, and before he could change his own. “Follow me!”

Caleb didn’t bother seeing if anyone had actually followed, he just kept going. He tried to control his breaths as his reptilian galloped around rocks and shrubbery down the steep path of the mountain side. _Force, Dume. You’re actually dying this time, you know that? Kriff, kriff, kriff..._ But it was the right thing to do, and he felt it. This is probably what it felt like to be a Knight. The wind was pushing against his face now, pushing his irritation and anxiety to the back of his mind and causing his padawan braid to wave behind him like a flag. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the path that he’d built up the nerve to look over his shoulder.

Brek’s lekku flew in the wind, and the Twi’lek glanced up at Caleb who was visibly surprised to see him and the others not far behind him. Brek yanked at his reins and circumvented a boulder. He smirked at the boy and waved his blaster in the air as he yelled over the sound of the beasts clomping through the dirt. “I’ve always wanted to use one of these!” he told the Human.

Caleb laughed, both relieved and proud to be leading such a crowd of patriots. “Let’s see if you know how!” he retorted, picking up the pace on his blurrg.

Soon enough, the throng cleared the mountains and was nearing the city gates.

Suddenly, Caleb, riding heavily on his feelings and purposefully ignoring his thoughts, found himself nearly cutting to the right. Something made him look over in that direction and he had to retake conscious control before directing his ride to do the same. Holding the reins forward, he tried to see whatever it was the Force was directing him to see. But all he could pick up with his eyes was an array of thick shrubbery, about a quarter of a klick away, marking the end of the forests surrounding the approaching city. All he saw was one bush in particular seemingly departing from the others and travelling up a mountain path, as if being carried by the wind. All he noticed were two small boots protruding from beneath the bush...and a pale-green lek coming through its leaves… All he sensed was a rebellious troublemaker at a distance and a resurfacing irritation inside his chest.

_And a Jedi uses it to protect others._

“Well blast it all…” Caleb exhaled noisily, but it could not be heard over the sound of Twi’lek battle cries and the stomping and roaring of blurrgs. “There’s always something...”


	6. Chapter 6

Hera sighed with relief once she’d finally gotten to the opening in the mountainside that she had been looking for. The cavity in the rocky edifice was roughly two meters in diameter, its opening resembling the shape of a star or a flower. Figuring she was far away enough and far up enough from the conflict below to no longer need the disguise, she started ripping herself free of the branches and leaves, scratching her arms and face even more in the process. Once unfettered by all of it, and after picking the remaining twigs out of her pockets and hat, she peered both down the pathway and up at the rocks above her just one more time. Then she sat down on her knees and swung her backpack around her shoulder. She checked its interior, to make sure she hadn’t lost any supplies on her trek. _Broken handheld holoprojector, check. Flat-holos, check. Macrobinoculars, check. Chewstim, check. Glareshades, check. Glowrod, check. Ration bars, check. Tooka doll, check._ She took each item out one by one. _Looks like everything is in pl—_

“Really kid! What are you doing?”

Hera screeched and turned around, leaping to her feet, instinctively whipping her old stingbeam out from the inside of her boot, and aiming it at the source of the sudden voice. She’d nearly pulled the trigger before she realized she recognized the face at the end of its barrel. Lowering her pistol, she placed a small gloved hand on her chest. “Stars, Jedi, don’t scare me like that,” she said, struggling a bit to catch her breath.

Caleb had both of his hands up in front of him, as if they would actually protect him from the close range shot of an energy pistol. “Force, what’s _wrong_ with you!?” he exclaimed.

Hera put her weapon back into its concealed compartment of her shoe. “What’s wrong with _me_? I’m not the one stalking people, Jedi.” Before Caleb could reply to that, she nailed him with questions. “What are you doing up here? Aren’t you supposed to be rescuing villagers or something? How did you even find me?” The girl jumped to the ground again as she yelled at him, frantically stuffing her belongings back into her bag.

“Actually I _am_ rescuing villagers. I’m rescuing you, _little girl_!” He ran his hand through his hair impatiently. “Now come on, a heat storm is on its way here. My blurrg is only a few levels down the path. Let’s hurry and get out of here!” He grabbed her wrist as soon as Hera’d thrown her last bit of supplies back into her backpack, and began racing down the rocky pathway, pulling the younger child behind him.

“Heat storm!?” the girl asked, her lekku bouncing and her hat falling over her eyes as she tried to keep up with him.

“Yeah, yeah. _Heat storm_. As in death. As in danger. As in, we have to leave now!”

Hera managed to pull her wrist free and she stopped to throw her bag over her shoulders again. “Oh stars...but what about the hostages?” She walked over to the edge of the path and looked down at the city. Smoke was rising now, and she could see flashes of blaster bolts flying from inside of the city’s walls. Droid bits were scattered all over the ground by the gates. “They’ll all die!”

Caleb made an exasperated sound, not stopping. “No, they won’t. Because unlike you, kid, everyone down there is following directions. Turns out, the Separatists won’t be sending any reinforcements because they don't think we will. The Resistance managed to infiltrate their base and kill all their communicators by—Force, will you hurry up!?” Caleb glanced over his shoulder only to see no one was trailing behind him. “Kid? Kid!” _Ugh! I should be down there helping, not doing this! Stars above, why didn’t I send someone else after the General’s daughter?_ Caleb remembered what Depa had told him only a few hours ago via the Force as he made his way back up the path after the girl. _A soldier is not guided by his feelings_. He sighed. _You karked that one up pretty quickly, didn’t you Dume?_

“Kid!” He couldn’t believe it. The Twi’lek girl with the pilot’s cap was actually travelling _higher_ up the path, despite what he’d just told her. “Kid! Are you actually...What part of _we have to run_ don’t you understand!?”

Hera ignored him and peered through her macrobinoculars. “We’re not gonna make it if we try and run back to the tunnels that way. I’ve got a better place we can hide!” She put her binoculars back into her bag and stepped around a large pile of rocks, back towards the opening in the side of the mountain where he’d found her.

Caleb shook his head wildly, his padawan braid bouncing against his robes. That Twi'lek, Brek, had been right. She was insane. “And where the heck is that? Just follow me. If we’re fast we can make it.”

“No, come on!” the Twi’lek girl said, her voice like irritating music to Caleb’s ears. But somehow, he found himself ignoring his brain again, and squashing the aching dread inside his chest. Truth is, she was probably right. Who would know more about escape routes than a native to the monstrous planet herself? If they tried to get back to the tunnels from the way they came, they’d probably be incinerated in the storm. Still, he hesitated to put his trust in a girl not only about four years younger than he was, but also one that hid blasters in her boots, and went off on her own climbing mountains in the middle of a galactic conflict.

Hera stood in the flower-shaped opening and waited for Caleb to catch up. Smirking, she asked, “Come on, Jedi. Don’t you trust me?”

Caleb looked at her with an eyebrow raised, and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I really don’t but,” he said, and he used the Force to push-jump his way up the path to where she was standing. Briefly, Hera looked at the teenaged boy in awe.

“Where’s your hideout?” he asked, with a surrendering shrug to his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

As it so happened, the opening led to a tight crawl space that cut deep into the crag and wound about for a while. A few meters in, Caleb could hear the sound of loud, rushing liquid and his stomach sank.

“Wait. What am I hearing? Is that running water?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” the girl replied, crawling in front of him.

Rock soon became soil and the surrounding area only seemed to be getting less and less spacious, as if the walls were closing in around them. Soon, Caleb couldn’t see a light at either end of the tunnel, and the Hera took the glowrod out from her backpack.

“So, we’re hiding in this cramped space then.” Caleb tried not to sound nervous, but the tone of his voice quivered as the rushing liquid sound got louder and louder.

Hera smiled to herself at what she figured was his Basic accent slipping through his awkward Twi’leki. “No, the winds would fry us in here.” The girl paused a moment to clip the glowrod onto her hat, and Caleb nearly crashed into her. “Almost there, just around this bend,” she told him and she continued to crawl.

They turned a corner meeting an even smaller crawlspace, and a dead end. Against the wall was a thick sheet of metal, that looked like a broken piece of a blastdoor to Caleb, tied up with a thick rope.

Hera stopped crawling and twisted herself around in order to sit down. Caleb screamed internally. “Great. So a slightly even _more_ cramped space then,” he said sitting down next to her, exaggeratedly hunched over.

“Are you afraid of small spaces or something?” Hera asked him, squatting before the hunk of metal and pushing it aside. Suddenly, a bright purple light came flooding in from the revealed opening behind the metal and it lit up the dirt walls around them. Hera clicked off her glowrod and jumped down into the gap, feet first, landing about two meters below into a subterranean area as large as the library of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

“What the…” Caleb crawled forward and squinted, peering inside. “Woah…”

“Yeah,” the girl replied, dusting the excess dirt off her pants.

This place wasn’t small and it wasn’t cramped. It was _huge_. A massive underground cavern with high walls encrusted in shimmering minerals, and ceilings dappled with brightly glowing, blue stalactites. At one end was a series of small waterfalls. He recognized it as the source of the loud surging liquid he’d been hearing. And the cascading water filled the center of the cave with a large pool that flowed out by means of a small stream, cutting through another wall at the cave’s far end. Small, floating rocks surrounded the waters like hovering mosaics. Bursting from both the ceilings and floors were crystal-like plants producing the bright purplish glow that lit up the entire space. To Caleb, the lighting made him feel like he was inside of a kyber crystal, or something.

“Hurry up and get down here so I can close the door!” Hera yelled at him, holding the other end of the rope that he saw traveled up a cave wall and tied around the hunk of blastdoor she’d pushed aside seconds earlier.

“But how will we get back out?”

“There’s a tunnel leading out on the other end. How dumb do you think I am?”

Caleb hopped down from the opening. Once he was out of the way, Hera promptly began pulling on the rope until the metal blockade was back in its place, the way they’d found it. “There. We’re safe from the heat storm. Now we just have to wait it out.” Hera dropped the rope to the ground and began inspecting the scratches all over her arms. “Blast it, I better wash the dirt out of these before they get infected.” She looked up at Caleb. “Make yourself at home Jedi. But don’t touch my stuff. We should only have to wait here for a few hours.” She made her way over to the pool of glowing liquid.

Caleb continued to look around the cavern, now thinking it resembled something like the inside of an old Jedi temple, with its glowing walls, high ceilings, and eerie lighting. He noticed what must have been Hera’s ‘stuff’ all at the far end of the cave, and he walked over to get a closer look. The girl had set up what looked like a sleeping quarters, complete with a small bed, a closet, and a doorless armoire filled with holonovels, toys, and jars of food or candy or both. He couldn't tell. And on the other side of the bed was a massive pile of miscellaneous scrap. An ash-covered therma-slice that looked like it had exploded after its last use, several dead glowrods, droid limbs, hoverbike handles, an old vibrosaw, and what looked like half of a windscreen, all heaped among other things.

Caleb ran his fingers through his dark-brown hair in awe. “How’d you get a gasser down here?” he called across the cavern.

Hera glanced over casually to where he was pointing and she squinted. Then she shrugged and continued to rinse her arms, kneeling forward above the glowing water. “Piece by piece. It was easy.”

Caleb looked over the arrangement again. “You live here,” he said finally. Realizing she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the rushing water, he raised his voice. “You live here?”

“No!” she called back. “This is just my hideout, I told you that. I live with my dad and my sister, back in the tunnels.”

Caleb shrugged. “Then why the furniture? Why all this stuff?”

Hera dipped her hands into the water and started to rub the dust from her lekku, obviously not making it a point to answer his question. Caleb, recognizing suddenly that he too was covered in dirt and unbelievably both sweaty and thirsty after travelling in the hot sun all day, decided to join her by the pool and cool himself off. He walked over and knelt down beside Hera, sweeping away some hovering stones and taking a moment to look at himself in the reflective liquid. Mud was smudged all over his face. His padawan braid hung over his shoulder, it’s tip hitting the water’s surface.

"Is it drinkable?” he asked.

"Yeah," Hera told him, putting her oversized pilot’s hat back over her rinsed lekku.

Caleb looked at her with a raised brow. "This is actual water? Not poisonous to humans, right?"

Hera shrugged. "I don’t know. But it is water. And I drink it all the time."

Caleb hesitated. But then he decided to crouch over onto his belly and plunge his entire head into the pool.

“Wow,” Hera muttered after he’d resurfaced. She rinsed off her arms off a second time. Caleb took a breath and emerged his face into the icy water a second time. This time, letting the water drip down his neck and shaking his head to get the excess out of his hair, like a mangy tooka.

"Hey!" Hera exclaimed, blocking the sprinkling water with her hands.

He laughed. “Sorry.” Remembering how dry his mouth was, he began cupping handfuls water to his lips, drinking it in huge gulps. Hera watched as he noisily slurped the cool drink from his hands.

"Stars. _Someone_ was thirsty."

"Yeah," the boy said, between gulps.

The girl shook her head slightly and then stood up. She looked over her scratches one more time and figured they were clean enough. She traveled over to the adjacent corner of the cavern, where she'd assembled somewhat of a makeshift bedroom over the years, and bent over before her scrap pile. She began sifting through it, pulling out her collection of EMP grenades one at a time.

“What are those?” The boy asked her, his voice a bit washed out by the running water. He raised his voice, asking again at a louder volume.

“Droid poppers,” she yelled back over her shoulder. She picked up two and walked back over to where Caleb was. The boy sat up and began slicing his hand back and forth through the cold, running water. Hera plopped down next to him and gestured for him to take one of the droid poppers.

“Careful.”

Caleb examined the weapon. “You have grenades down here, too?”

“Yep,” she said proudly. “And look, these babies are all we need to defend ourselves from the droid armies next time. I’ve seen your shiny clone men roll them at droidekas once when they came here before. They don’t hurt people, just bots." She admired the weapon's metallic exterior. "When I saw some were broken, I took a look into their wiring and fixed all of them.”

“Fixed? Wait, where did you get them?”

Hera shrugged. “I found them out in the desert.”

“ _Found them._ ” Caleb raised his eyebrows. “Just laying around outside. Really.”

Hera looked him square in the face, and Caleb found himself momentarily distracted at appearance of her eyes. Like everything else in the violet lighting, Hera’s green eyes seemed to glow, just like the crystalline florine sprouting all around them.

“Yeah. Really,” she told him, and he shrugged in response. “Someone just left a crate of them in the middle of nowhere, all spilled over. Nearly cooked my speeder trying to figure out how they worked...because I threw one.” She examined the spherical weapon in her hands some more and ignored the way Caleb started shaking his head at her. “Anyway, that’s why I was coming down here. I was gonna bring them back to aid the op.” She shrugged, feeling somewhat defeated.

_“Caleb!?”_

Both children leapt to their feet at the sudden voice, nearly detonating the grenades in their hands.

“What the…?” It took Caleb a moment to realize that the disembodied voice had come from the comlink tucked in his robes. He carefully handed Hera the droid popper in his hand and dug out his communicator. “Master!? Master Billaba, is that you? Can you hear me?”

 _“Oh. Thank the Force…”_ he heard her respond. _“Where are you, my padawan?”_

Caleb brushed back the wet hair plastered to his forehead out of his face. “I’m okay, Master. I’m safe. A, uh, a native led me to her hiding place, so we’d be protected from the storm. We’re just waiting for it to pass, and we’ll return to the tunnels right away!”

Caleb could hear Depa sighing with relief through the communicator. This was the most emotional he’d heard her in a long time. He felt a small note of dread lift from the Force energy surrounding him. _“This is good to hear, Caleb. Very good to hear. I was just so worried, thinking I’d lost you.”_

He smiled. “I’m okay, Master.”

_“To think I’d abandoned my padawan to the fate of a fiery cyclone on his first offworld endeavor! What a tragic thought! Now, has this native taken in anyone else? General Syndulla’s daughter has disappeared and he is terrified something tragic has happened to her outside of the tunnels. The entire village is distraught over her absence.”_

“Oh no…” the green-skinned child muttered softly.

Caleb narrowed his eyebrows at her and shook his head. “I think I might have a clue where she is.” Caleb filled his Master in on the details, informing her that this native was, in fact, the General’s daughter herself and did, in fact, leave the safety of their subterranean village without anyone’s knowledge or permission. Hera had put down the grenades carefully and tried to reach over and cover his mouth, but he gently held her back using the Force, and kept talking. And Hera nearly strangled the boy when he released his hold on the barrier between them and handed her the comlink. “Your father would like to speak with you,” he said with a smirk. She slugged him in his shoulder and snatched the communicator while he laughed.

While Hera’s father was chewing her out via comlink, Caleb felt he should at least give her some space. He walked back over to the makeshift cave-bedroom and to the shelf where the girl had stored a multitude of holonovels. He looked over all of the thin crystalline boards and read their titles.

_Ji Si'hivi Fonol..._

_Lahsa Nabat..._

_Ji Fehsolan bo Rd'ok vil jei Vyan Ann..._

At the end of the row was a red one, seemingly without a title, and he picked it up and began absentmindedly tapping through its pages.

Sighing, he wondered how long it would take until the storm passed overhead, how long he’d have to wait down here in this cavern with this kid. He wondered how long until the Grand Army would arrive, how long until he could say he’d completed his first ever off world mission successfully and was now a _true_ padawan by the standards of his peers. His mind wondered aimlessly and he felt himself nearly losing patience until a picture in the holonovel caught his eye. It was of a Twi’lek family and it looked like General Cham’s and Hera’s. Caleb looked closer. Besides them was green-skinned woman standing next to the General. She looked exactly like an older version of Hera, but aged and with dark brown eyes, painted eyebrows, and a pair of lekku adorned with white tattoos that came around and over her shoulders. Wrapped in the woman’s embrace were two small girls. One was Hera, and the other girl, Caleb didn’t recognize. She was pale orange color like, Cham, with blue eyes. Both girls were dressed in matching dresses and sequined head coverings. Younger Hera had a huge smile on her face that was missing a few front teeth. Next to the picture was something scribbled messily in Twi'leki. And Caleb realized suddenly that he wasn’t looking at a holonovel. This was the girl’s holodiary.

“Hey give me that!” Hera snatched the tablet out of his hands and she shoved his comlink into his chest, _hard_.

“Ow!”

“No one ever teach you not to snoop around, Jedi?” She shut off the holodiary and put it back in its spot on her shelf. “Stars.”

“Sorry,” the boy said gruffly, rubbing the spot on his chest where she’d shoved him. Her talk with the General must have been pretty rough. “Do you think the storm is over by now? What did the General say?”

Hera ignored the latter question. “The storm will take at least another hour to pass. We should wait two hours, just to be safe. If we try to leave and it’s still there, _BFFFF_. Up in smoke.” She made her way back over to the pile of grenades she had started separating from her scrap pile. “In the meantime, let’s stock up.” She knelt down and muttered, “They’ll be glad I came out here when they see these.” She picked up her backpack and pulled out a second one from one of its front pockets and unfolded it. She gestured for Caleb to come over and handed the second backpack to him. Promptly she began filling hers with the EMP grenades. “Come on, fill ‘er up.”

Caleb knelt down with the backpack. He found it interesting that this one kid could have what looked like a hundred of stolen grenades to her name without the General’s knowledge, or anyone’s knowledge that is. He put one into the backpack and picked up another, questioning silently if he should even be helping this child terrorist. “Was that the rest of your family? In the picture, I mean.”

The girl didn’t answer him. “Careful!” she barked, snatching a sphere out of his hand. “You’re putting them in wrong. You gotta be gentle with them, or they’ll go off. Ugh. Just let me do it.” She took his bag and started to fill it up with grenades, actually in a manner much rougher than Caleb had been doing it.

Caleb blew a fallen lock of wet hair out of his face. “Look. I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was your diary at first.” Hera said nothing. “Also, look, to be honest, kid. I don’t know what you have planned, but maybe you should just stay where you’re supposed to be next time. I mean, there’s an actual _war_ going on on Ryloth, and all over the Outer Rim. Everyone's gottta follow orders to stay alive. Someone won’t always be around to save you, you know.”

“I don’t need saving,” Hera mumbled, filling up one bag to the brim with droid poppers and moving on to the other one. “And I make my own decisions.”


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s pitch dark. Why is it pitch dark?” Caleb looked up at the sky. It was completely black, sprinkled with white stars, and illuminated by all five of Ryloth’s moons. “We’d only been in there for a few hours...”

Hera gave his braid a tug as she moved past him, to regain his attention. “We’re in the Nightlands, the side of the terminator that’s always night?” She put down the load she’d carried out, including the second backpack, two parkas, and two glowrods before proceeding to conceal the cave opening with a large bush. They’d exited out the other end of her hideout like Hera’d suggested. “It’s kinda hard to see out here.”

Now what lay before them was a deserted expanse of land, bathed in pure darkness, but shimmering with scattered crystalline flora sprouting every half a klick or so. Caleb was noticeably shivering in the chilled air. Hera threw him a parka. “It’s also really cold so, we’ll have to move pretty fast,” she told him. Caleb could feel the remaining droplets of water in his hair already crystallizing as he hurriedly put on the coat. After putting on her own, Hera lifted the heavy bag off the ground and handed it to him. He noticed somewhat despite himself that her eyes were still glowing in the dark. “Put this on backwards, so the pouch is out in front of you,” the young girl directed.

“Why?” he asked, doing just what she said. At this point, everything was feeling almost surreal to the young Jedi, the climate surrounding him unlike anything he’d ever been exposed to before, growing up on Coruscant. Something like a Gathering test, or a trippy vision instigated by the Force. That or he was just tired. He stood still as Hera clipped one of the glowrods to the his hood and pulled the hood over his head for him, before attaching the other glowrod to her own hood. The girl adjusted the straps of the bag on her back and nodded towards the barren expanse.

“Because. My bike is like a whole klick away and I need you to do that wizard-jump thing to get us there as quickly as possible.”

“Why can’t we just walk back to the tunnels? The ones that goes down to your village, I mean.”

She hesitated. “Because, you know, if we walk some doashim might hunt us down and eat us...or something.”

“What!?” Caleb exclaimed, the name of the creature triggering its image to come to mind. He’d seen pictures of doashims in one of his studytablets back at the Temple. “Those things live out _here_? Why would you leave a speederbike so far off from your-your... _cave home_ if this place is infested with those demon monsters?”

Hera frowned and fiddled with the tethers of her backpack straps. “Do you really want me to answer that?” she asked, avoiding the question. Truth was, this wasn’t the first time she’d been out in the Nightlands in need of a quick getaway plan. Those demon monsters were precisely the reason she'd abandoned her ride so far off. “Besides. Even if they’re faster than we are, I can stun them with my pistol and you can just cut them down with your laser sword. Now come on. We have to get out of here.”

Caleb squinted down at the girl for a few seconds. Then with a roll to his eyes he shrugged, no longer understanding or even wanting to question her plans anymore. “Alright, whatever.” He crouched down and allowed the girl to hoist herself onto his back and wrap her small arms around his shoulders. “Which way is your speeder?”

“Just keep going straight until you reach that cluster of flora over there.” She pointed and Caleb knelt lower, placing both hands on the cold, wet dirt and silently summoning the Force to do his bidding. “But, be careful. These grenades aren’t made to kill people but this many exploding all over us might kill us.”

“Got it. Hang on,” he said, just as Hera’s hat fell over her eyes. She tightened her hold around him and dug her chin into his shoulder just as he sprung a leap into the air as if treading a planet without gravity.

Hera yelped with each of Caleb’s bounding steps despite herself, until they were about a quarter of a klick out. She managed to shake the brim of her hat out of her face without the use of her hands and looked around. They still had some ways to go. “Also, listen, Jedi,” she said, with a strange urgency. “Everything I told you in my hideout stays in the hideout... _including the fact that I have a secret hideout!_ ”

Caleb ignored how somewhat irritating it was to have the little girl screeching directly into his ear and concentrated on each landing step. Even with the glowrod clipped to the side of his hood, he could barely see in the unending darkness and had to rely heavily on the Force to guide him. He wondered if Hera’s eyes were more adjusted to this lighting than his as he took each step, afraid to trip on a rock or something.

But he’d heard what she said. And he could guess why Hera was asking him this. The two of them had gotten to talking a bit while waiting for the storm to pass in the girl's 'hideout'.

<><><>

Caleb told her all about how much this operation meant to him. How it was the first time he was supposed to use his lightsaber to save real lives on another planet, how he was fighting a real war now, and how she basically ruined all of his plans with her shenanigans. Hera seemed to find that hilarious, but she apologized. And the girl eventually opened up about the family in the picture Caleb saw in her holodiary.

 _My dad and my sister,_ she’d explained, reluctantly pointing at their smiling faces on the diary’s screen. _And that’s my mom. It was our first day of dance school, so yeah. That’s why we’re dressed like dorky slave girls._

Caleb had winced upon hearing the word, and he didn't dare ask about it. He’d known that female Twi’leks were very often sold into slavery, but that textbook fact never really crossed his mind in a context such as this. Actually the only female Twi’lek he’d ever known was Master Secura. And the Jedi Master was the exact opposite of subservient and oppressed. It was weird talking to a girl who expected to become a slave one day, face to face. So he’d sat silently as Hera continued.

 _My mom was actually really mad that day, because she didn’t want us to grow up like that. As someone’s property, I mean. Like, even though that’s the only way for us to get off this rock, you know? She was always good at pretending to be happy._ Hera’d shrugged. _She’s dead, though._ Caleb had remained speechless after that. And the two sat in silence together after Hera’d shut off the diary’s backlight, lost in their respective thoughts, and stared at the glowing underground waterfall across the cavern.

Eventually, Caleb had cleared his throat, about to apologize for her loss, but Hera’d cut him off, now talking more to herself than to him.

_I’m gonna find another way out of here though. Gonna get my own light freighter and fly right out of Ryloth, right out of the Outer Rim. I’m gonna go to all sorts of planets like the ones I’ve read about. Maybe even some of those pretty Core worlds with big cities and libraries and some of the icey wastelands where it snows all the time, like nonstop. And then I’d come back for everyone else. I’d grab Numa and Brek...all of them. Get them all out of here to a place where their lives...mattered more to other people._

Caleb had ran a hand through his hair, again and again, even more unsure as to what he should say to all of this. Suddenly he’d remembered General Syndulla’s words to him earlier that day. He still felt indignant about his comparing his losses to theirs. But hearing Hera now, it seemed that even though almost everyone in the galaxy had major losses to tote, the Twi’leks had one of the worst deals out there.

 _I’m sorry about your mother._ He'd gotten out, eventually.

 _Me too._ The girl had only shrugged again in response, learning to swallow that intense pain years ago. _But, I still have the rest of my family, so I’m happy about that. My friend Brek lost both of his parents and Numa lost everyone but our uncle Nilim and us. Some of the toddlers back home were so young when the Seps took away their folks, they don’t even know they’re a bunch of orphans... At least, I guess, I can always remember my Mom, like everyone keeps reminding me..._

 _That’s really important._ Caleb had agreed. _I can’t even remember my parents. And I wish I could, sometimes._ He'd paused. _But my Master, Master Billaba, is sorta like a mom to me now. She worries about me and stuff...I'd never had anyone care about me like that before. I can't imagine ever losing her..._

 _You can't imagine it until it happens..._ Hera'd been staring at her feet. _And even after it does...you can't believe it. Just like...be happy about every second you spend with her. I try to be that way about everyone, now._

<><><>

Presently, Caleb asked Hera, mid air into a leap, and trying to keep balance, “Wait, so no one else knows about your little home away from home?” He smirked but she couldn’t see it. “I gotta say, I'm honored, kid.”

“Don’t be. I just can’t let anyone from the village know I have all those holonovels. My mom taught me how to read when I was six. And no one can ever know that.”

“What?”

“Stop!”

“But why aren’t you sup—”

“Jedi! Stop stop stop!” Hera exclaimed tugging on his braid. Caleb skid to a stop in his tracks and the girl hopped off his back, throwing him off balance and nearly causing him to fall face first into the ground with a load of grenades strapped to his chest. He balanced himself just in time and thanked the Force.

“Kark, kid! _I’m_ not a speeder, you know! Stars, you can’t just pull my hair and expect me to stop running!” he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath as he adjusted his backpack, taking it off and carefully putting it back on, this time the pouch facing the back. “Just trying to get me killed, aren’t you?”

Hera quickly ran into the nearby cluster of tall crystalline flora and came back out of the illuminated shrubbery just as quickly, toting her old speeder by its handles. She hopped onto it and grabbed hold of the handlebars. “Alright, now we’re moving! Jump on, Jedi! Let’s go before we’re doashim prey!”

Caleb felt so spent, so done. He shrugged in disbelief. “You’re like four, and yet you can ride a speeder?” he commented, walking over to where she was.

“I told you it was mine a million times already, what’s the surprise? And I’m _ten and half_.”

“Yeah, but I thought you just found it or some—” The boy groaned. This is just not what he expected his first operation to be. It really wasn’t. “Just let me drive it. You can barely see anything out here.”

Hera sucked her teeth. “I can see more than you can. Come on, Jedi. Don’t you trust me?”

Caleb shook his head no, pulling down his hood and taking his padawan braid out of the jacket’s zipper. Briefly, he calculated the risks. And the boy eventually decided that getting into a crash on a speederbike was probably a better bet than being torn to shreds and eaten by a doashim. At least if they crashed, he could implement the Force and brace for impact. Despite Hera's confidence, he knew they stood little chance against the demon-reptiles.

“I really don’t, but.” He jumped onto the back of Hera’s bike. Hera smiled, pulling the goggles of her oversized pilot's cap over her eyes.

“Then hang on!” Caleb had barely gotten his hands firmly grasping onto the speeder’s side handles before Hera kicked on the engine and shot through the Nightlands at her bike’s top speed.

...And, overhead, the Grand Army was just arriving.


End file.
